A light in the night
by TashimiaAuthor
Summary: Tauriel is confused by the dwarf that is currently in their prison and the feelings she has for him and for Legolas, the Prince she can never have. But as the dwarves makes their escape and she sees Kili hurt, she must save him. She knows that Legolas can never be hers, but what about the dwarf? Keeps close to the events of DOS but from there on it will be written freely. Kiliel.
1. Chapter 1

_**1.**_

Tauriel walked back from the cells, her thoughts in turmoil and her heart conflicted.

The dwarf had turned out to be gentle, pure and intelligent. Things she prized in another person and things that attracted her. His enthusiasm when he talked of the firemoon had been fun to watch, and for the first time in a long while she had felt warm and happy.

Looking up at the stars she bathed in their light, trying to still her emotions. It was always the hopeless loves that she fell in. She thought of the prince. How they defended the borders together, how they trusted each other with their lives and the bond they shared. And how she had longed for that bond to change. She smiled at herself, her foolishness. Thranduil had told her that Legolas might have changed his view on her, that he might be developing feelings for her, stronger than the bond of battle. But in that same sentence he had crushed her hopes.

Don't give him hope where there is none.

She could still hear the King's words and she could still feel the pain in her heart. It was impossible. A wood-elf with red hair, together with the blonde prince? It could never be. Just like an elf and a dwarf.

She looked up at the stars, remembering Kili's words when they had spoken of the stars. Cold and distant he had called them, but she knew better. They were memories, pure, innocent and warm. But in her heart she agreed with Kili. They were distant, too far away to touch and she could only bathe in their light.

Ugly, Legolas had called the dwarf. But she did not agree. He was by far the prettiest of the dwarves, and his raven hair was so different from the blonde elves she normally walked with. His deep dark eyes were different too, and the stubble on his chin. Beard. She had seen it on humans from a distance, but he was the closest she had ever gotten to someone with a beard. So different from the clear and smooth skin on the chins of the elven men. But fascinating. Different, but not ugly.

Legolas. Could he really care for her as she cared for him? Or was his father mistaken? She had no idea. None at all. She put her arms around herself, as to keep her emotions in, and wandered on in her solitude, away from the sound of the party behind her. Even if his father was right and he cared, it could never work. Thranduil would never allow it.

Still... Those clear blue eyes that always seemed to pull her in, held a power over her heart, but like the stars she would never be able to touch him. She would even have to act coldly towards him as to not take on the wrath of the king.

She stopped at the top of the walls, staring into the distance, towards the Lonely Mountain and sighed. What would it be like to go on a quest? To be free? She would never know. Her home was much too important to her, and she felt that she would shatter did she not keep it safe. On the other hand she did not agree with the king's way. You have to attack to defend, not hide in your walls. It would not be enough to only protect your own lands and let the evil grow stronger beyond your boundaries.

Her thoughts returned to the dwarf. He was on a quest to take back the home of his kin. The mountain that the dragon had robbed them off. A reckless quest she thought and smiled as she remembered his token, the black stone. The proof that his mother had thought him reckless enough to make him promise to come home and even had carved runes in the stone to help him remember it.

There were so much life in him, wit and humour. Even captured in a cell he seemed to make his own fun, singing, joking with her, playing with the stone and with the words that he gave her. And he seemed to find joy in her quick responses. She could talk with him and say things that would insult any elf and he would react with a laughter and joke. Reckless indeed, but so filled with life that it was impossible for him not to be.

Most people would not listen patiently to her, but instead brush her off. No matter that she was a captain, for few who had not fought by her side respected her. Her red hair marked her as below them, and they could not forget it for all she achieved. A Silvan elf, as compared to the blonde Sindarians.

Legolas, though he respected her skill in battle and her wit, always seemed to treat her colder when they were not alone, than when they were. It hurt her, but she understood it and it could not dull her feelings for him.

She shook her head in confusion. Six hundred years she had lived and she was young, but still she felt old inside. She had fought all her life from the death of her parents and all the way till now. Fought to stay alive, fought to be accepted, fought to be seen, and fought to grow in rank as to force the others to respect her. Sometimes she thought it had all been for nothing. Other times she relished in the fact that the guards had to follow her orders.

She turned and walked back to the others, joining in the festiveness, tasting the strong, sweet wine that Thranduil bought from Laketown and relished in the freedom of dance and song as the stars shone upon her.


	2. Chapter 2

_**2.**_

Kili followed the others from the prison and down to the wine-cellar with a heavy heart. He knew that he would not see Tauriel ever again unless fate would be kind. And fate rarely was.

It could never be, even if he did see her again, but he could not keep himself from hoping. Hoping to see her again, hoping that maybe, just maybe, the stars truly were not as distant as they seemed and he would be able to touch her heart. She had smiled at him, laughed at his jokes. He had to hope.

Not that it mattered, he thought, gazing over his shoulder and ignoring the others' outraged comments about Bilbo being supposed to lead them out, not into the basement. After the incident with the trolls and seeing Bilbo escaping the goblin king's halls on his own, he trusted the little fellow. His thoughts were on the elf.

Fili bumped into him and his attention was snapped back to reality.

"Into the barrels." Bilbo said. "Trust me." After a moment's hesitation and a command from Thorin, the dwarves did as Bilbo asked.

Kili's barrel was a bit too big for him and he stuck his head out with the others, looking questionably at Bilbo.

"What now?" Bofur asked.

"Hold your breath." Bilbo said and pulled a lever.

The world started spinning as the barrels suddenly rolled down a slide and fell through the air. Kili felt a rush of fear and then he was flung into the side of the barrel as the fall stopped. Icy cold water splashed over him and he let out a yell of surprise.

The barrel jumped up and down in the water for a second before it found its balance and started working as a small boat instead.

"Is everybody all right?" Thorin called, his voice low as to not alarm anyone who might be nearby.

Mumbled sounds of agreement came from the barrels and the dwarves stuck up their heads to find themselves between two walls of cliffs. High up earth and roots covered the sky, and behind them they could see the wooden trapdoor that hid the slide they had been sent down with.

"Did Bilbo come down with us?" Bofur asked, looking around, searchingly.

"Nah." Nori grinned. "Probably still up there or we would hear him splashing around."

"Quickly!" Thorin yelled. "Grab hold of the rocks!"

His words made the other dwarves realise that the river was carrying them away, so they hurried to paddle to the cliffs, hanging on where they could. None of them argued that they should wait for Bilbo.

Luckily they did not have to wait for long before Bilbo came falling down from the trapdoor, his arms flailing like wings before he hit the water with a loud splash. Two seconds went by before he broke through the surface and grabbed hold of Bifur's barrel to keep himself from sinking. Like dwarves, a hobbit was not made for swimming with their short limbs.

Thorin nodded to Bilbo, acknowledging that he had gotten them out before shouting an order to the other dwarves.

"Let's get going then!" he said and let go of the rock he had been holding himself to. The barrels started to quickly float down the stream, the walls rising tall to both sides. Soon their escape would be discovered.

Kili got more than a mouthful of water when a sudden current toppled his barrel and his hair was soaked when it found its way back to its upright position, Kili coughing and spitting water everywhere, cursing rivers and elves and barrels. It turned and rolled on the waves as to make him sick and he could feel himself paling. Barrel sailing was not for him, he felt. But better than to be captured and imprisoned.

Moving out from the walls and the sky reappearing like the blue bringer of light, the dwarves let out happy sounds. They had gotten so far. But just as joy rushed through them, they heard the sound of signalling horns and as the barrels came around a bend in the river they saw a port blocking their way, an iron gate closing before them. They would be captured again, could they not make it around or through that port. To make matters worse, before they even reached the gate everything seemed to go wrong.

The elven guards, their attention on the dwarves, were felled from behind by black and rusty arrows, if not killed instantly then seconds later as the first orcs climbed the walls and cut them down.

Soon the arrows fell over the dwarves, penetrating the barrels and poking at them through the wood. Thorin and three others made it below the bridge that held the port, safe from arrows, but Kili could see that not all would be able to hide there and it would only prolong their death by minutes before the orcs would kill them in their barrels.

Their only chance was the lever to the side of the bridge that he had seen the elves use to close the gate. His mother's stone, the promise that he would return and not be reckless, seemed heavy in his pocket as he leapt from the barrel, grabbing hold of the bridge and pulling himself up.

Just as his fingers touched the lever, the arrow slammed into his leg making him collapse on the ground, yelling in pain as the warm stream of blood started tickling down his skin.

Looking up at the lever, so close and yet so far, he felt the full weight of the stone, his promise, and the lives of his friends, his kin. He would have failed them now, they would die and he would never keep true to his promise if he did not pull that lever.

He put a hand to the ground, raising himself up, grimacing in pain and then in fear as he saw the orc pull back the string of his bow, another arrow ready to kill.


	3. Chapter 3

_**3.**_

Tauriel acted by instinct when she saw the orc aim at the dwarf and released her arrow with the smooth grace of a natural killer. The other elves may look down on her for her inferior race, but they respected the fighting abilities that came with it, and so would the orc have, had it survived.

As it was, it fell dead before her feet as she continued her graceful run to the next green-skinned creature and flung her dagger at it. One after another fell for her quick attacks and her blades.

By her side ran Legolas, killing as she did although not as graceful. A human or a dwarf would no doubt have found him elegant beyond compare, but to an elf the small hesitations and rough movements were obvious and she knew that compared to herself, she was by far the smoothest fighter.

Still she thought of him with fondness in her mind, as she had for the longest time. Even though the young prince was slightly arrogant and at times cold and distant, she could not help her fondness nor trust. He had her back as she had his.

Another orc jumped over the wall and she twirled and killed him, his dark blood staining her face and hair as she pulled the dagger to turn to another. Through the corner of her eye she kept a watch on the dwarf, making sure that no enemy came close.

Her eyes widened as the dwarf fought to stand, the arrow sticking from his leg as a branch from a tree, pain clear in his dar brown eyes but his mouth stern and his chin stubborn. He reached for the lever and pulled it down, releasing the barrels and the river, at the same time securing the escape of his kin. Then, drawing on strength she did not believe him to have, he turned and jumped back down into an empty barrel. He disappeared down the river with the other dwarves.

Impressed against her will she could not help but allow her green eyes to follow him, and only when the orcs left to pursue the dwarves did her mind return to the matter at hand.

With the quick grace of a hunting cat, she jumped, pinning a running orc to the ground and she was about to kill him when Legolas stopped her.

"Not that one. We can use him for information." He said, his blue eyes cold. They both knew that the orc pack had been hunting for the dwarves, but they did not know why.

Tauriel held off her knife, though her fingers itched to kill the creature of evil that she had captured. She reined in her emotions, but kept the blade at his neck if the orc should decide to try and flee.

Only when two other elves took hold of its arms, did she release it and shuddered at the remaining feel of its slimy skin against hers. She would have to change and bathe to no longer feel its evil on her skin . It squealed in a pig-like manner when it was pulled off, making her wrinkle her nose in disgust. Orcs had killed her parents and she would at all times kill them in revenge. It went against her every instinct to let the others lead it away alive, no matter the knowledge they might learn from it.

Legolas looked at her, his eyes knowing and his expression kind, compassionate, pitying. She felt her pride rage at his pity, though her heart felt soothed by his compassion. Strange, to be so conflicted.

She wiped her daggers off in the mucky shirt of a dead orc, retrieving her arrows one by one. No need to waste time making new when the old was retrievable. It calmed her to be doing a practical, logical task, to be free of the gaze of the prince. She admired him, loved him, but at times she felt her heart rebel against him and everything he stood for. Everything his father stood for.

Thranduil had taken her in after her parents had been killed. He had raised her and Legolas side by side and at times she had almost believed that he cared for her, but now she knew better. Thranduil cared for no one, except for those whom he could use. As long as she was the best killer, the best captain of the guard, he had use for her. But she knew that her conditions would be severely worsened if he felt that she no longer fulfilled her duties to him. He had never left her room to doubt about that.

She looked at the horrifyingly mutated face of one of the orcs, her eyes becoming distant as she remembered another orc and a woman screaming at her to run.

"Tauriel." Legolas called. "My father will want to hear your report before we question the orc."

Her thoughts snapped back to the present and she rose with unconscious elegance, turning towards him. A pale smile adorned her lips. "Yes, my prince." she said, using his official title as always when others were near. Only when they were alone in the forest was she allowed to address him by his name, though she had always called him so when they were young. But that was almost three centuries ago, and though a hundred years pass in the blink of an eye for an elf, it was not so for her. Maybe the others were right and the Silvan elves were lesser than the Sindarian. Maybe that was why she felt the passing of time more harshly and cared deeper for the scars it left behind in the world.

Maybe that was why she longed for change and freedom. She looked over the wall, down the river where the dwarves had disappeared and sighed. Then she turned to follow the prince and the others to the king.


	4. Chapter 4

_**4.**_

Kili felt him self grow faint at the pain when the shaft of the arrow broke against the barrel's side, causing the wound to grow larger with a sickening pain. He bit the inside of his chin to keep himself awake as the barrel continued down the river.

"Are you okay?" Fili yelled.

"Yes. I'm fine." He yelled back as another arrow slammed into the side of his barrel. "It's nothing."

But he had to grit his teeth together not to whimper in pain as he tried to get a look of the wound. Blood was oozing from it, already an unhealthy dark colour. Did orcs poison their arrows or were they just so dirty that infection was a given?

He shook his head, pressing himself as far down the barrel as he could without tipping it. He had no intention to be hit by another arrow, and he could hear the sound of other arrows hitting other barrels over the sound of the river. By the beard of Aldur, what a crappy day. He felt dizzy from the loss of blood, but knew that he could not afford to pass out, and when the shouts of alarm rose from the other dwarves he fought to clear his mind.

"WATERFALL!" somebody yelled, and Kili stiffened and pressed his arms against the walls of the barrel, hoping that he would be strong enough not to be thrown out of the barrel and that it would not be crushed against rocks at the bottom. As he felt the barrel tip over the edge, he drew in a deep breath, partly from fear and partly because he had an ugly feeling that he would be under water soon.

As he went under the water he felt his consciousness slipping, and when he came up he closed his eyes involuntarily and seemed to drift off for a while into the darkness. Surrounded by shadows, he felt, shadows that were reaching for him. Screaming at him to join.

The shadows left him as the other dwarves pulled his barrel onto land. Kili blinked, realising from Bombur's all but destroyed barrel that he must have missed quite a bit. Fili helped him onto the ground, supporting him all the way to a rock he could sit down on. There they looked at the wound and Fili's expression grew grim.

"Get up." Thorin said. "We need to continue before the orcs catch up!"

Fili stood, trying to make himself as tall as possible. Kili knew that position very well from all the other times that his brother had felt the need to protect him, something that consoled him.

"That wound need to be tended to." he said, his voice stern and stubborn.

Thorin looked at him for a second or two, but he knew his nephew well enough to know that Fili would not back down on this, no matter his loyalty to Thorin. "Then dress it." he said. "But quickly."

Fili nodded and turned back to Kili, already looking to Dori for bandages. Dori shrugged in apology, for like the others, he had lost his baggage when captured by the spiders and later the elves. Fili cursed.

"It's fine." Kili said, not wanting to slow the others down. "It's nothing."

Fili looked at him and Kili knew that he had not fooled his brother. But Fili still ripped off the lowest part of his tunic, using the cloth to bandage his brother's leg. "If it hurt, you tell me." he said under his breath so no one else would hear. "You hear me? I promised mum I'd keep you safe."

The thought made Kili smile despite the pain. For some reason, although Fili got into trouble almost as often as him, their mother had made Kili out to be the reckless one. Probably because Kili was the youngest and so his mother worried more about him.

He stood and made sure that his pain would not be seen too easily on his face. No way was he going to make the others worry about him. He was Thorin's nephew, one of the heirs to the lonely mountain, and he would behave at such when the situation or his pride called for it.

Thorin sent him a quick look, so he nodded and made his face hard like stone. His leg hurt, but he was okay and he could continue with them.

"We need to cross the lake." Thorin said.

"Now, that could get you killed." an unfamiliar voice responded and the dwarves turned to see a man standing on a rock above them. He had an arrow pointed at Thorin's chest, but his eyes flickered attentively from dwarf to dwarf.

"Who are you and why should I let you live?" he asked, his expression cautious and distrustful.

Balin liftet his arms in surrender, smiling soothingly.

"You come from Laketown, if I'm not mistaken." he said calmly, like an old grandfather. "Maybe you could help us?"

The man turned the arrow towards Balin, not lowering it a bit. Thorin took a protective step forward, but Balin stopped him with a single look.

"We're merchants from the blue mountains and we would be grateful for a way over the lake." Balin continued, partly telling the truth. Some of them had worked as merchants in the blue mountains prior to the quest.

The man lowered his bow. "I know were you and the barrels came from. The lord of Lake town does much trading with the elven king and if I helped you that would mean the end of my business. I will have nothing to do with you." His black eyes scoured over them, before he stepped down the rocks and continued down to the barrels.

He then started moving them over the rocks to the other side where a small pram was tied to a dock.

Balin followed him, making no hostile movement and keeping his business smile in place.

"Look, those boots and clothes have seen better days." he said. "I'm sure there is ways into the town without crossing the guards' watch."

The man looked up at them. "For that you would need a smuggler." he said, his voice neutral.

Balin nodded. "Aye." he said. "And we'd pay him well."

The man's piercing eyes looked over them, as though he tried to see through them all.

Thirteen soaked and unarmed dwarves, looking miserable however they tried not to, and a hobbit that looked even more pathetic, stared back.


	5. Chapter 5

_**5.**_

Tauriel felt the icy cold hatred bloom within her chest as she stared at the grinning orc. Even on his knees, a blade to his throat, he laughed at them, mocking them.

"Your pack was hunting thirteen dwarves on my land." Thranduil said. "And you _will _tell me why."

"Not thirteen anymore." The orc snickered, his rotten breath fouling the air. "We shot one of them with a morgulblade." The snickering turned to a grotesque laughter. "He is as good as dead."

Tauriel's rage flamed suddenly and voilently as she pulled her dagger and with gracefull steps swept down to deliver death. "Do you like death, orc? So you shall have it." she hissed, but before she could deliver the final stroke, Legolas took hold of her shoulder, pulling her back.

"_Tauriel, no. He still has more to tell us." _he said in elvish, his voice ringing clear in the middle of the orcs stench.

Thranduil looked at her with disdain, making it clear what he thought about her rashness and lack of control. As always, she saw disgust in the depth of his eyes.

"If you cannot contain yourself, leave." The king said, making it clear that it was an order and not a choice.

Containing her anger, she bowed her head at the king, her knuckles turning white from gripping the shaft of the dagger with too much strength. She turned and walked out the chamber, but hesitated when she had left the sight of the others. She could her the hoarse and smug voice of the orc as he continued laughing.

"The great evil will take you all."

With those words ringing in her ears she continued down the hall, her mind muddled with emotions and confusion.

She had long felt that something was amiss in the other parts of middle earth. The spiders had been proof thereof, but Thranduil had refused to listen and refused to see past his borders. A shiver ran over her skin. If the great evil truly had returned, the creator of the rings, then surely they would be taken if they did not take a stand. Her parents had been killed by orcs bred by that very same evil who forged the rings.

Her thoughts returned to the dwarf, making her insides grow cold. She had seen him get hit, and as far as she knew he was the only one who had. Was he dying? Passing into the shadows?

Without a conscious command, her body continued to her chambers, finding her weapons. Her land, Mirkwood, the forest of the elves, was threatened and she could not stand by and watch her people get hurt, no matter their distaste for her. And she felt that she needed to know if the dwarf who had been so filled with life and light was slipping into darkness. Their lives, though longer than humans, had short enough spans as it was. Or so she told herself as she hurried through the hallways and to the gate. Even though she did not run, her steps were long and smooth, carrying her with an ethereal elegance towards the river and the dwarves.

His black eyes, so different from the blueness of the elves, would they grow distant and grey as the shadows took hold of his soul? Would he slide away to serve the old evil who should never have been able to return, like the humans of old? Or would he simply disappear, forever tormented in the darkness of the world between this one and the next?

She reined in her thoughts. She would not go to save the dwarf. He was not of her people and she had nothing to do with his promise to his mother. She would go to kill the orcs who had breached their borders and maybe to seek out information. But then again. The dwarves quest must be against the will of the evil for them to be hunted by the orcpack, and that would mean that helping them was to go against the evil. And she supported their quest t reclaim their home. She herself had been homeless till Thranduil took her in, and in some ways she still was.

Somehow she managed to make herself believe that helping the dwarf would be a logical move to protect the elves, pushing away the strange pull he had in her heart.

The guards greeted her as she reached the gate.

"Lady Tauriel." one said, nodding. "Out scouting?" he asked then.

She nodded and gave him a pale smile. "Yes." she said. "I might be late." she continued, the lie numbing her lips as if it was poison. Though lying was easy for her, it went against her very being and though she knew that many elves easily danced around the truth, she had never been able to make herself do that.

She walked through the gate, continuing down the road till she reached the wall where the orcs had attacked. Scaling the wall with little trouble, she jumped to the ground on the other side, her eyes sliding over the ground. The orc corpses had been removed and was probably being burned away from the trees.

She continued following the river, descending the cliffs and rocks with immortal ease.

In her heart she knew that she might never return to the elven kingdom, for Thranduil's rage would be great when her absence was discovered. Heavy as a black stone, the feeling pulled her down as she followed the river with a hunters experienced eyes, making sure that she would not miss any sign that the dwarves had left the water.

Now she might be every bit as homeless as the dwarves.


	6. Chapter 6

_**6.**_

Kili shivered in the fog, reminding himself that they would soon reach a town and, maybe, a warm place to rest. Sitting up against the railing of the boat, the moistness of the fog seemed to seep into him, freezing him to the bone. To make matters worse, it stank of mildew, seaweed and fish.

Thorin was collecting the coins to pay the human from the dwarves when the discussion erupted.

"We have a problem." Balin said, counting the coins again. "We're ten short."

Bifur sighed. "Probably for the best." He said, scowling at the human. "I don't trust that man."

"His name is Bard." Bilbo said, seeming well tired of the dwarves suspiciousness of all who were not of their kin.

"How do you know?" Bifur retorted.

Bilbo looked to the heavens for help, but when he did not receive it, he sighed. "I asked him." he answered, and then he rested his head in his hands. He felt a serious headache coming on. Stupid distrustful dwarves and their love of coins.

Balin looked around the dwarves to see if anyone had any coins left, but all shrugged. They had given all they had and yet their faces turned to Gloin who was sitting by the railing opposite of Kili. Gloin always had more coins than he let on and they knew it.

Thorin stepped forward. "Come with them." he said, his expression dark.

Gloin shook his head. "This quest has all but ripped me off my clothes, I have nothing left." He spread his arms in exaggeration. "And what have I gotten for my trouble?" he asked. "Nothing!"

Bilbo stood, staring off into the fog, then he turned and looked at the dwarves and then the fog again. Thorin sent him a more than annoyed glare.

"What?" he asked.

But Bilbo's mind was occupied as he stood and stared towards the horizon.

"Is that it?" he asked, almost stumbling over the words. "The lonely mountain?"

The dwarves rushed to their feet, their eyes seeking the dark shape in the distance, their hearts swelling as they took in their home of old.

"Erebor." someone exhaled, but no one cared who.

Kili stood with the others, ignoring the pain in his wound, and for the first time he laid eyes on the mountain that had always been sung of by his kin, remembered with hope, love, grief and despair. The home and halls of old. Too young to remember, his mind seemed to be swiped of thoughts as he took in that which he had always heard and dreamt of, fed with tales from when he was old enough to understand them by both his mother and uncle. It seemed too grand to understand, and yet he understood. This was a home, the home, he would fight for and now he had seen it, it had given voice to a longing inside him. It would always be within him, calling.

"Take them." Gloin said, his voice thick with emotion. "Take them all." he continued, digging his hands deep into his pockets and drawing handfuls of coins to give to Balin, his eyes never leaving the mountain. "For this is a sight I would pay the world for."

Kili took a step towards the sight, and then he had to put a hand against the railing not to fall. Sudden dizziness swept over him, and he sat down, careful not to let anyone know. Sweat ran down as icy trails on his back and he had to grit his teeth so they would clatter, but he could not hold back a shudder. The first onset of fever worried him more than he would admit. Even to himself.

Fili looked at him, worried. "Does it hurt much?" he asked, but Kili shook his head. There was nothing they could do about it, so there was no need for his brother to worry. Besides, he was young and strong and he would heal. He always healed quickly from training injuries, so he could not see why this wound should be any different. His body just needed to fight the infection. Till then, he had to stay strong.

"Get into the barrels!" Bard called to them, his voice muted by the fog. "Unless you want us all in prison." he continued, his voice grim.

Some of the dwarves who had started to protest, stopped when Dwalin pointed out the guards that walked the small docks they were steering for and soon all had found their place in the battered barrels. Kili climbed down low in his, and there he closed his eyes. They were stinging from exhaustion. Shivering, he hoped that somehow they would soon be warm and under covers.

The pram laid next to the dock and Bard stepped off, walking briskly over old wooden planks. Though Kili could not see it for himself, his ears told him clearly enough that the human had left the boat. The other dwarves muttered till it became apparent that Bilbo was the only one with a view of the situation.

"He is talking to some man." Bilbo said. "And he is,-" he hesitated. "-pointing towards us. They're coming over."

Dwalin was about to stand up in anger. "He is betraying us!" he muttered, following the words with a oath.

The other dwarves rustled and were about to stand with him, prepared to fight for their lives and to kill the betrayer, when a cold realisation hit them.

Icy, dead fish fell down their necks and covered them, their slime and stench quickly making it clear that Bard had found them a cover and a way into the town. Not a pleasant way, but _a_ way.

Kili shuddered as a fish slid into his tunic, cold and limp. Not quite the cover he had hoped for.


	7. Chapter 7

_**7.**_

The rocks were steep where the waterfall plunged over the edge of the cliffs, so Tauriel had to strap her bow over her back and swing from one stone to another to get to the ground. When she reached it, she stopped in wonder.

All around her was little pieces of planks from the barrels and the corpses of orcs. It looked like someone had been playing ball with a barrel, using the orcs as the goal posts. Following the trail, she came to the conclusion that whoever had been in the barrel had been armed, for the orcs started sporting axe-wounds and larger pieces of of wood seemed to have been removed from the barrels. She guessed there had been one, maybe two dwarves in barrels fighting here, but how she could not guess. The traces they had left behind told her that they had somehow made it back into the water, continuing in the barrels.

She considered the possibility of the dwarves having come to weapons but shrugged it off. They probably would not have been able to hold on to them when they entered the water.

Following their trail, she nodded to herself. Further down the river, she found orc-weapons where there were no corpses. They _had _to have been left behind by the dwarves.

Increasing her pace she ran over the stones and rocks, jumping from one to another. Somewhere inside her, she relished in the pure feeling of the run, the hunt, the chase. It was so much easier to just enjoy the thrill of it than to think of why she ran and the consequences of it.

Her heart swelled as she ran with the river and the trees, her chest expanding with each life-giving breath and her legs burning with the hurried blood that flowed through her muscles. It was so perfect, so real, to just be a living and moving creature. She felt free, here, on her way away from the never changing court of the elven king of Mirkwood.

She reached the place where a tree made a bridge from one side of the raging river to the other and she crossed it, her every movement as graceful and silent as a deer. Reaching the other side, she sped up again, life burning within her with the heat of a dragon's fire.

It took her longer than she would have thought to reach the lake, but she also acknowledged that she had been faster than ever before. Her eyes scoured the site with falcon sight and quickly found what she had been dreading and at the same time looking for. Crouching, she looked at the black pool of blood where a wound had been tended and bit her lip as she recognized pieces of the dwarf's brother's tunic. No doubt he had been the one to tend to his brother.

A sound behind her made her grab her bow and turn, arrow at the ready, but knowing it to be too late. She should have never let herself get so distracted by the blood of a dwarf, no matter that he was the one she was bend on rescuing.

As she saw the foe, she lowered her bow, relaxing.

Legolas looked at her with his icy cold eyes, anger apparent in them.

"You would have been dead." he told her. "Had I been an orc."

Tauriel smiled at him, her fear already forgotten.

"But you would have had my back and shot the orc before any harm came upon me, Legolas." she said, naming him as she did only when they were alone.

Legolas lowered his bow, stepping closer to her and looking at the blood that had kept her attention captured before. Then he looked at her again, ignoring the blood.

"We must return." he said.

Tauriel hesitated, thinking before she spoke.

"I cannot." she said, carefully pronouncing the words, making sure that each syllable came out clearly. "Not when this orc-pack defiles our lands." she continued, telling in part, the truth.

"Father will forgive you if you come back now." Legolas said. "He might not later."

Tauriel nodded, her emerald eyes sad and lonely.

"I know that he will not forgive me." she said, not making it clear whether she meant at all, or if she did not hurry. She remembered all too well the cruelty in his eyes when he had told her not to give Legolas hope where there was none.

"I will hunt down this pack of orcs." she said, then she looked him in the eyes, and green met blue. So different, his eyes. So cold and distant and so familiar, compared to the strangeness of the black eyes she had found herself gazing at only a day past.

Legolas seemed to hesitate, but then he bowed to her will.

"I will guard you back." he said.

She gave him a weak smile, though her eyes gleamed strong.

"And I yours." she said.

Was she truly giving him hope where there was none? It was impossible for them to be together in the way she longed for, as long as Thranduil forbid them so. It was impossible and yet it seemed too sweet a dream, too bright a hope, to give it up.

It was like the stars, too far away to reach, but she revelled when bathing in their light.


	8. Chapter 8

_**8.**_

None of the dwarves spoke of the horrible way they had been forced to sneak into the house. Nor did they mention the stench of fish and other things that had followed them.

Having been seated on one of the stools in Bard's house and having been covered by more than one blanket, Kili suddenly felt very very warm. Sweat ran down his back under the still moist cloth of his tunic. He worried that someone might notice, since the other dwarves where still complaining of the cold. But then again, no one would see the wet markings on the already damp shirt.

He could feel the shivers of the fever, but instead of making him weak, it seemed to warm him and give him an almost drunk energy. Fili seemed to send him worried glances, so he smiled at him and pulled the blankets closer around him, despite the sweat running down his back.

Fili was not convinced, since the pearls of sweat had also spread across Kili's forehead and gave his pale face a sickly shine.

Bard came into the room, his arms filled with shirts and tunics.

"They might not be the best fit." he said. "But they'll keep you warm."

Kili accepted one grateful and hurried to pull off his wet shirt and replace it with the other. It was a bit too long, and though it was tight over his shoulders, it hang loosely down his body. But it was dry, and that helped stop the shivers better than the blankets had done. He hurried to wrap them back around him, his mind dizzy and his eyelids heavy. It had been a long night and a longer day and he was tired. Therefore he missed the first part of the conversation that started between Thorin, Balin and Bard.

"Girion, the lord of the city, rallied his moment to fire upon the beast." Balin told the others. "But a dragon's hide is hard as stone and only a black arrow, fired from a windlance could have pierced the dragon's hide." His eyes grew distant as he talked. "And few of those arrows where ever made. The stole was running low, when Girion made his last stand."

Thorin stared out the window at the dwarfish windlance that had called upon the memory.

"Had the aim of men been true that day, much would have been different." he said, sadness in his voice as he turned to look at his dwarves.

"You speak as if you were there." Bard said, suspicion in his eyes, and anger, as though Thorin's words had been an insult.

Kili looked at them, feeling his muscles tighten and his jaw set as he made himself ready to defend his uncle if necessary. Thorin was his kin, his family and his king. Should this strange human threaten him, he would have to face Kili, Fili and all the other dwarves.

"All dwarves know the tale." Thorin said, his voice tense and dark.

"Then you would know the rest of the tale!" Bard's son said. "That Girion loosened one of it's scales. One more shot he would have killed the beast."

Dwalin chuckled darkly.

"That's a fairy-story lad. Nothing more." he said, his voice rough, but not mocking. He meant no harm by the words, just to give the boy a dose of reality.

"You took our money." Thorin said, stepping forward and looking straight at Bard. "Where are the weapons?"

Bard seemed to hesitate, to think.

"Wait here." he said, his eyes not leaving Thorin before he turned and walked down the stairs that had led the dwarves up to his house from their unusual entrance. Not that any of them would speak there off for many years, and then only with hidden discontent. Their thought shied away from the reality of the smell that almost overpowered the stench of the fish.

The dwarves were silent for a moment, then they huddled together.

"Tomorrows the last day of autumn." Thorin said, crossing his arms worryingly and in part letting the collected façade that he had been showing Bard fall.

"Durin's day's the morn after next. We must reach the mountain before then." Balin said, sending Kili a glance as though he thought he would be the one to slow them down. Thorin saw it too.

Kili suddenly felt scared. What if they left him behind? He felt himself pale further.

"And if we do not?" he asked, fighting to keep his voice calm. "If we fail to find the door before that time?" he continued, looking at Thorin, searching for some way around his fear. He felt certain that Thorin would not leave him behind. His uncle would never betray him in that way, but the idea spooked him nonetheless. What if he could not keep up and kept them all from their goal?

"Then this quest have been for nothing." said Fili, also looking at Thorin, as though he meant to spell out a sentence. _Then my brother's wound have been for nothing. _But he did not say it out loud. Kili would have never forgiven him.

Thorin looked at them, his eyes dark and his face as stone. His expression was unreadable.

In that moment, Bard entered the room anew, placing a package on the table with a clunk and removing the hide that covered the metal within.

The dwarves looked at the weapons in disbelief, lifting them and making sure that their horrid quality was no trick of the eye.

"What is this?" Thorin asked, outraged by the poor quality. It was peasants weapons, hammers meant for forging metal and harpoons. All where they moist and partly ruined by the water that they must have been hidden in.

"A pikehook." he said, looking at the weapon that Thorin held. "Made from an old harpoon."

"And this?" Kili asked, lifting a hammer.

"A crowbell we call it, fashioned from a smithies hammer." Bard answered. "It's heavy in hand, I grant. But in defence of your life, it will serve you better than none."

The dwarves erupted in angry protest against the weapons. They had paid for decent weaponry and they would take no less!

* * *

_A/N:_

_I wanna throw in some thanks for some of my readers, because even though you're all great, some of you deserve something extra for the time you've taken to review._

_Thanks and love to Idyjadin for writing exactly what you like about the story every chapter. Thanks to Maigleggal for taking the time to send me a private message and for inspiring me to do this thank-you-thingie. _

_Thanks to ladycplum for letting me change your view on the pairing._

_And thanks to anotherOUATwriter, Slytherin99, pat4pat, ibbonray, Aerophoinix, Omg and all you other guys who continue to review and read my story! I love you guys!  
Also, a great thanks to Alellai for finding my fish-scene (chp. 6) hilarious. Love to you for reassuring me that my humour doesn't stink like a dead fish or a foul entrance. Badam-Tssshhh! Pun intended. _


	9. Chapter 9

_**9.**_

"You won't find better outside the city armory!" Bard said angrily, trying to put an end to the noisy dismay of the dwarves.

"Thorin, why not just take what we can get and go?" Balin asked his prince. "I've made do with less, and so have you." he said, not noticing how Bard seemed to move away at the sound of Thorin's name. By pure coincidence, none of them had said it in the presence of the man till then.

"We're leaving now." Balin said, having seen the silent agreement in Thorin's eyes.

"You're not going anywhere." Bard said, cutting through the noise and making all the dwarves turn to stare at him in anger. More than one of them wanted to take the poor weapons he had brought them and use them against him.

Kili was too tired to feel any real anger, but even he was in turmoil over the human who seemed to help and mock them all at once.

"What did you say?" Dwalin demanded, his eyes incredulous.

"There are spies around this house." Bard said. "And they are everywhere, at every door and dock in this town." He glanced at all the dwarves, quiet for a second. "You must wait for nightfall." he said, packing away the wet hide on the table.

Kili felt the tenseness leave the dwarves as they accepted that they would have to stay, and as the tenseness left him, so did his strength. Suddenly weak, he had to support himself with the crowbell as he sunk down to sit on a chest. His wound ached, and he knew that it could not be good for it to have been soaked, first by the dead fish, then by the unmentionables in the water as they had entered the house through the toilet.

He pressed his fingers against the wound, trying to make it bleed as to cleanse it a bit without letting the others know. And they would not see, he knew, for the bandage was already marked black over the wound.

But Thorin was watching him, watching the pale skin and the dark circles around his eyes. Watching his trembling limbs and the sweat that ran down his skin even as he seemed to shiver in cold. Thorin saw the weakness and the illness in his nephew and worried. They would have to reach the mountain before the morning of the next day, and they might not if Kili was with them. And Kili might not survive if he did not rest and heal.

Yet, Thorin could not make himself betray the will of his nephew, and he knew that he would bring Kili with him. Knew that he could not leave him behind unless he was an direct danger to their mission.

Bard went outside to get some air and again Thorin and Balin came together in a whispered discussion. They all saw Bard's son look outside and heard his fathers hasty words as he left. Thorin's face grew determined at that, and Balin gave up changing his mind.

"We're leaving." Thorin said, but as Fili reached for one of the weapons Bard had brought them, he shook his head. They all understood his thoughts.

The dwarves got to their feet, Kili wobbling ever so slightly as he steadied himself against the wall.

Bard's son seemed desperate as he stepped in front of Thorin.

"No!" he said. "You can't! My father-"

"Your father isn't here." Thorin interrupted, pushing him aside and walking over to the stairs and down them. The dwarves followed and Kili steeled himself. The others must not know how sick he felt.

They hurried through the streets, jumping from one small docking to another and as quietly as possible crossing planks in the oncoming darkness. As they reached the weaponry, places where Balin remembered it to be, the strongest of them leaned against each other to make a sort of stair for the others to get to the balcony of the building. All the houses in Lake-town seemed to have balconies of one sort or another.

Kili climbed up the backs of his kin and unto the balcony, following Thorin, Bofur, Bilbo and his brother. When there, he quickly took the axe that Thorin gave him, holding his arms out to carry as many weapons as possible while Fili stacked weapons in Bilbo's arms in a similar manner and Bofur took what he himself could carry.

Kili shifted the weapons in his arms as a sting of pain shot through his leg and a wave of dizziness ran though him. His arms felt as bread soaked in water and he could hear himself panting because of the weight of the weapons.

Thorin looked at him, worried.

"Are you all right?" he asked, noting that Kili, unlike his brother, still was a hand's length shorter than him and slimly buildt. Again Thorin felt the sick worry that the pale face and the dark circles at Kili's eyes provoked in him.

Kili nodded. "I can manage." he said, his voice muddled with fever as he turned and walked back towards the place they had entered from.

And then the accident happened as his leg gave up and folded under him as he passed the stairs. Weapons rained down them, scrambling against each other and filling the house with metallic noise, alarming all that was near enough to hear. Kili himself fell after them, only being able to stop his fall as the staircase turned.

Guards yelled and Kili froze, his eyes wide with horror and his mind suddenly clear.

It was all his fault. He had failed them all, his uncle, his brother, his kin and Bilbo, the hobbit who had only followed them because understood their longing for a home.

Before he could even get to his feet, a guard shoved him against the wall, pressing a knife to his throat.

It was all his fault.

* * *

_A/N:_

_I know, I know, you were all expecting a Tauriel POV, but you'll have to wait for next chapter since I felt the need to continue a bit with Kili's POV. _

_Love and adoration to those of you who review with more than just the Word "update"._  
_Did I make you feel bad for Kili in this chapter?_


	10. Chapter 10 - Not in the movie

_**10.**_

Legolas looked at her from a few meters distance. He had moved ahead while she had been examining the bloody carnage between the rocks.

The head, several bones and the torn flesh of a deer was spread across the ground, scattered as if the orcs had torn it from the animal while fighting each other.

"Tauriel." Legolas called. "The day grows darker, and the orcs draw further ahead."

Tauriel looked up at him, her catlike eyes narrowing as she turned her gaze to the sun. Legolas was right. There was only a few hours to sunset and when darkness fell the orcs would speed up. Foul creatures as they drew power from the night and weakened only in the strong shine of the sun. Not even the light of the stars or the moon would slow them.

Her feet found their way over the stones, the soft boots bending and giving her a secure grip on the surface of the cliffs as she and Legolas continued following the trail of the orcs around the lake.

"It's strange." she found herself saying as she followed Legolas over a fallen oak.

"What is?" Legolas asked slowing his pace.

She was silent for a time, pretending to be distracted by some tracks. Truth was that she did not know what had made her speak the words, She had not meant to say them out loud.

"You." she said then, which in part was true. She smiled at him, and he smiled back. They were used to this kind of situations, roaming the forest, hunting and tracking. It was so familiar and well known to them.

"How am I strange to you?" he asked, his voice as elven as they came and filled with the ages of time he had seen. Not so many more than she, but she knew that they sometimes showed in her voice as well. As in all the voices of elves. You voice changes after a hundred or a thousand years, ageing like a fine vine.

"You hurry along as quick as you can in hope that your father will forgive me if we move swiftly and return with haste." she said. "When you, better than anyone, should know that he will not." She smiled, a smile of sadness, but also a smile with the shadow of the humour she saw in the situation.

Legolas slowed his pace, as if her words had made him self-conscious. As if he had not realised what he was doing.

"My father might understand." he said, his tone dark.

Tauriel turned her head to him with the quick and unsettling motion of a cat.

"The king will not." she said, all humour gone from her voice. "And Legolas, as you know, your father is the king."

"He is more than just a king." Legolas said stepping quickly to her side as they continued their hunt. "He is your king, my father and the man who took you in and raised you when your parents were killed."

Tauriel felt the cold rage of the immortals stir within her as she looked at him, her emerald eyes paling in colour.

"He have been no more than the king since the passing of your mother." she said, her eyes cold as they locked in his. "His heart have grown distant. He no longer cares for the lands beyond his borders, not even the southern part of Mirkwood that once was his to govern." Her fingers itched to be locked around one of her daggers, but she did not follow the impulse. "King which was once his title have now become his being."

She saw the responding rage in the ice cold eyes of Legolas and she turned from him, quickening her strides as she followed the trail of destruction that the orcs had left behind them.

Legolas followed her and his next words pierced her heart.

"Do you not wish to return?" he asked her, his voice unreadable.

She stopped and so did he, for the first time through their conversation they stood silently, staring at each other.

"I wish." she said, simply.

"Then why?" he asked.

Her face became unguarded as she gave up. Gave up on the pretence that had been between them for so long.

"The pain of being denied my home would be equal to the pain of walking it." she said, her voice filled with sadness.

He looked as if she had slapped him, his head jerking back, hurt in his eyes.

"Are you not happy in the halls of my father?" he asked her.

She shook her head.

He seemed to hesitate.

"Are you not happy..." he continued. "...with me?" And the pure unguarded pain in his eyes devastated her already broken heart.

"I..." She did not know what to say. "I am happy with you, but it pains me too." she ended up confessing. "It is as if I know the stars are right above me, but I cannot see their light."

Confusion filled his face, then realisation, happiness, and then again pain.

"You love me." he said.

She nodded, breathlessly, her heart hammering in her chest, almost making her deaf to his next words.

"Why did you never tell me?" he asked. "Never let on, never giving me the faintest hope that..." his voice trailed off.

"Because there is none." she said. "Your father is the king and I am but a wood-elf, a Silvan."

"But you never seemed to care about that." he said, his voice flat. "I did not." he continued.

"Do not lie." she responded, bile rising to her mouth. "If you did not care, you would not have instructed me to only call you by name when alone."

"I wouldn't, had I known,-" he started, but she interrupted him.

"Besides," she said. "I have been instructed not to give you hope where there is none."

She regretted having started this conversation. She regretted ruining her relationship to Legolas when she already knew that she would have to leave him behind because of her choice to hunt the orcs and help the dwarf. Dwarves.

"Your father had no trouble seeing what you did not." she said, knowing that it would hurt him and for one mean moment not caring.

Legolas' face turned to stone and his eyes to ice as he drew back from her, his whole body shying away from her being.

"Let us continue the hunt." he said, beginning to walk and not looking back at her even once.

* * *

_A/N:_

_If you Guys promise to tell me how the chapters makes you feel, then I promise to stop the Author-notes.  
Love ya'all. _


	11. Chapter 11

_**11.**_

Kili felt sick to the stomach as he was pushed along by the guards, through the masses of the people of Lake-town and towards the city hall.

Thorin walking in front of him, his back proud and strong, making Kili feel even more disgusted by himself. He was slouching, having no energy to stand tall, though that mattered little as he did not feel that he had the right. If they did not reach the mountain, if they were imprisoned, it would all be his fault. It was his fault.

He shivered in the cold air, almost feeling like he had to throw up as the smell of seaweed and fish seemed to grow stronger. Mist was flowing between the buildings, making his skin clammy and damp.

They were pushed forward, standing in the shape of a half-moon in front of the largest house Kili had seen in the town. Also the one why seemed to be in the best shape. Clearly, this house belonged to the lord of the town. All around them humans stood, the masses so large and dense that not even Bilbo had been able to slip away. Still, the dwarves had fought against the hands holding them captive, and had failed.

The noise of the people talking and yelling, was immense. Surely no one could ignore that, and sure enough, the door was pushed open and a large man walked out, still in the process of putting on his jacket against the cold and humid air.

"What is the meaning of this?!" he asked, his red hair clinging in sad bunches over his fat and wobbly neck. There was a sick likeness to the goblin king in the masses of fat. Luckily, this man was fully clothed and although he had a ring of fat around his neck, he did not have the gross almost beard-like lump of fat that the goblin had had.

A rat like man who's eyebrows was grown together as one, stepped forward from behind the lord.

"We caught them stealing weapons, sire." he said, his voice familiar to the dwarves. They remembered him as one of Bard's enemies, the one who had almost banned him entrance to the city because he had not mentioned that he would bring fish.

The lord seemed to sneer. "Ahh." he said. "Enemies of the state, eh?" As he spoke he revealed ugly yellowing teeth, making it clear that his lackey was not the only one with a likeness to a rat.

"Aye." said the lackey. "This is a bunch of mercenaries, if ever there was one, sire." he said, his expression flat as he insulted them.

"Hold your tongue." said Nori enraged and stepped forward, walking to stand directly afore the lord. "You do not know to whom you speak!" he said, his voice tight with anger. "This is no common criminal! This is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror!"

Thorin stepped forward as a murmur spread amongst the humans, waving Nori to silence. An exited mess of voices mixed together in surprise, happiness, hope, and fear.

"We are the dwarves of Erebor." he said, his voice strong and sure, his eyes raising to look at the lord. "We have come to reclaim our homeland."

The lord seemed surprised, and for a short moment, a glimmer of fear was apparent in his eyes.

Thorin turned to address the people of the town.

"I remember this town in the great days of old." he said. "Fleets of boats laid at harbour, filled with silks and with fine gems. This was no forsaken town on a lake." he continued, his voice raised in outrage over how the town had evolved into lesser than it had been. "This was the center of all trade in the north! I would see those days returned, I would relight the forges of the dwarves and see wealth and riches flowing once more from the halls of Erebor!"

He turned again as the people cheered, his eyes finding the lords and seeing there, that the lord knew what he must do to keep command of his people.

"DEATH!" a voice sounded from among the masses as Bard entered the open space around Thorin and the lord. "That is what you will bring upon us." he said. "Dragonfire and ruin."

"If you awaken that beast," he said in the following silence. "it will destroy us all."

Thorin collected himself quickly, cold rage in his eyes that left no trace in his voice.

"You can listen to this nay-sayer." he said, his voice calm. "But I promise you this, if we suceed, all will share in the wealth of the mountain. You will have enough gold to rebuild Escaroth ten times over!" he yelled.

Bard's voice was barely heard over the cheers of the people, barely noticed.

"All of you! Listen to me!" he yelled, desperate. "You must listen." And something in his voice made them quiet, listening.

"Have you forgotten what happened to Dale?" he asked them, outrage and anger in his voice. People mumbled, sounds of disorder and murmured mentioning of what had happened to Dale. All remembered. All knew the stories. "Have you forgotten those who died in the firestorm?" he asked them and now people yelled at him that no, they had not.

"And for what purpose?" he asked them, then continued without waiting for answer. "The blind ambition of a mountain king, so driven by greed he could not see behind his own desire!" he said, disgust undisguised in his voice. Thorin turned to glare at him, his eyes dark with rage at the mention of his grandfather and at the insinuation that he was the same.

"No, no." the lord said, pointing at Bard. "We must not, any of us, be too quick to lay blame. Let's not forget that it was Girion, lord of Dale, your ancestor, who failed to kill the beast!" he yelled, his voice mocking.

And Thorin took a step forward, his eyes large and dark with wonder, as he stared at Bard as if seeing him for the first time, seeing the pain and darkness that the mention of Girion had brought to his eyes.

"We all know the story." the lord mayor said.

"Arrow after arrow, he shot." said the lackey. "Each one, missing it's mark."

Bard averted his eyes, ashamed by his ancestor, but also sad and somewhat filled with denial towards the words of the people who scorned him. Thorin saw all this and recognized the emotions, because they were as familiar to him as the faces of his nephews.

He felt a sudden regret, a sudden conflicted emotion of empathy and sadness for the man, and cursed the fate that it had been this human, this man in particular, that had found and helped them, not once considering that they might scorn him in turn. And yet he also felt rage and anger, that this man's ancestor had not rid the world of the dragon when he had had the chance.

* * *

_A/N:_

_I know I promised, but people seem to protest against me stopping the AN's, so I'll make a couple of small ones as the story goes along.  
Watching the movie, I did not consider the way that Thorin might see himself in Bard, but as I wrote, I realised that he must have. Their stories are so alike in some ways, so similar, that it would be impossible for him not to. My Heart breaks for the pain and regret Bard must have felt, discovering that he was the one who brought the dwarves into the town._


	12. Chapter 12

_**12.**_

Kili felt dizzy as they walked towards the dock, dressed in the old and horribly looking armour of Lake-town, the weapons in hand that they had tried stealing only eight hours ago. It was not that the armour was in a horrible state or anything, actually it would be okay in a fight and so would the weapons, but the design of the helmets and breastplates was un-stylish and old-fashioned, even for a dwarf. And the breastplates were just a bit too long and rubbed uncomfortable against the top of his thighs when he walked. He did not notice though, as he almost moved in a haze, fighting to keep his footing.

The fever had not fallen over night, if anything, it had risen. Then again, he had not gotten much rest over the course of the night.

He thought back to the evening before, his mind slowly pulling the memories from his already fuzzy memory. It was almost as if he had not been there, or if it was already many days since, even though he knew it to be just last night.

The people had spoken in agreement with the mayors mocking words, and Bard had turned to glare at Thorin, stepping threatening towards him.

"You have no right." Kili had heard him say, but only just, as the noise from the audience had grown. He had not been able to see Thorin's face, as Bard had been standing between him and the dwarves, blocking him from view. Nor had he heard Thorin's answer, but he had spoken loud and clear afterwards as he turned to face the mayor.

"I speak to the master of the men of the lake." he had said. "Would you see the prophecy fulfilled?" his voice dropping seductively. "Will you, share, in the great wealth of our people?" he asked.

The mayor had thought and Kili had seen the look of greed in his eyes as he considered his people and proposition of Thorin.

"What say you?" Thorin had asked.

And greed had won, as the mayor pointed towards Thorin.

"I say unto you," he said, and then threw his arms out. "Welcome!"

"Welcome! Welcome! Welcome! Son of Thrain! King under the mountain!" And the people had cheered, the lackey grinning, and Kili had seen the despair, regret and rage on Bard's face as his shoulders fell down in hopelessness, as he slouched much as Kili had done when they had been led to the mayor's house and he had believed himself to have failed them all, but it was only for a second, then Bard drew his shoulders up again with a stubborn strength as he looked into the dark eyes of Thorin.

Without a word, he had turned and walked away through the cheering and rejoicing people.

Kili felt a sting of guilt at the sight, and then he pushed it away with horror. It was Thorin's right to rule under the mountain and sacrifices was unavoidable. Kili would die if it would make Thorin king under the mountain. Would die to protect his uncle and his king.

Then they had been swept off to a great party as the people celebrated the return of the king under the mountain. Weapons had been brought to them and they had partied and some had drunk and danced and sung and laughed, and then they had slept. Kili himself had went to bed earlier than some of the others, his leg paining him and the fever shaking him through the night. Nightmares of shadows had plagued him and he had barely been able to stand when Fili had woken him in the morning.

Now they were walking along the path that the people had made, marching almost, towards the dock were a boat was awaiting them. They would sail almost all the way till the city of Dale, and then they would walk from there, up to the mountain.

Kili knew that he should have dreaded the trip, but he was too tired to, his mind too hazy to understand the emotion. He could barely figure out which foot to put in front of the other as he walked.

The other dwarves in front of him jumped into the boat, and he did not notice that Thorin had stopped and turned towards him, before he put a hand out, blocking Kili's way.

"Not you." Thorin said.

Kili looked up at him, at first too shocked to say anything.

"We must travel at speed, you will slow us down." Thorin said, helping a man bring oars into the boat, and equipment.

Kili smiled, Thorin's words not really making it through the haze in his mind. "What are you talking about. I'm coming with you." he said, his voice shaking. Surely, Thorin must have been joking.

"No." Thorin said, the word almost a huff of breath, stopping his work to look Kili in his eyes.

"I'm supposed to be there when that door is open. When we first look upon the halls of our fathers,-" Kili said, or tried to, his voice muddled with shock and disbelief and fever. Still, he did not understand what Thorin was saying. There was no way his uncle would leave him behind, would betray him like that.

"Kili." Thorin said, interupting him and drawing him into a hug, trying to make him understand. It was not to betray his nephew that he left him behind, barely even because he thought that he would slow them down, but more that he was scared. Scared that Kili would die. He had watched his nephew grow weaker and weaker, his face now no more than a white mask with black circles around the eyes, his hair without its healthy shine, his hands ever shaking. He was scared, that if he took Kili along, he would loose him. "Stay." he said, his voice soft, willing his nephew to understand. He had no sons of his own, and so he looked at Kili and Fili, his heirs, as his own. "Rest, join us when you're healed." He said, putting a gentle hand on the side of Kili's head, a faint smile showing on his lips at the thought of Kili strong and well again.

Kili stared at him, his mind fighting to understand, as horror filled him.

Thorin turned his back to him, stepping towards the boat, leaving him.

Kili stepped back, turning as if he could not bear to see his uncle and his brother leave him, everything suddenly a blur before his eyes.

Why was this happening, why, when he had fought so hard to stay strong, to keep to his feet, why when he had tried so hard to keep up, to follow? Why? Why? Why?

He was barely aware that Oin left the boat until he tried to hug him, to console him. Kili jerked away. He did not need consoling, why would he? He was going with them. He had to be. His brother and his uncle would not leave him behind.

Oin tried to examine Kili's face, tried to figure how high his fever was, and Kili sat down on a square bale on the dock, his leg folding as it had in the armoury, shaking his head. They would not leave him.

And then, as his brother turned from Thorin and returned to the dock, walking towards him, he understood.

They would not leave him.

His brother would not.

But his uncle would.

* * *

_A/N;  
_  
_So close now... So close... And I'll finaly get to write a Kiliel moment!  
But School's starting back up tomorrow, and as a college kid (well, I'm supposedly not a kid anymore) I'm quite busy and probably won't be able to give you the luxury of 2 chapters in a day anymore. :( Well, I'll do my best to upload regularly so you'll survive. I hope. _


	13. Chapter 13

_**13.**_

They had caught up to the orcs just as they entered the city. From the other side of the bridge, they saw the last of the pack crawl unto the roof of a house and disappear over it.

The orcs had left the wargs behind in the forest, knowing that the large animals would not be able to sneak into the town without them loosing control of them and be discovered by the townspeople. It was clear that they came only to kill the dwarves.

Following them over the roofs, Tauriel and Legolas moved silently, with no more sound than the night breeze. No human looked up to see them and no orc turned around to notice. They saw them follow a single dwarf as he ran through the streets, and they followed the orcs, waiting as predators for when their prey would be distracted.

She and Legolas had not spoken since their fight in the forest, the day before. No more than small mentions of tracks or the quick orders that Legolas had given her at times. Even now, more than a day after, she felt angry at him. But they moved with the experience of the centuries that they had hunted together. No conversation was necessary.

Tauriel saw a young girl step out on the staircase on the side of the house, taking hold of the railing and gazing into the night, worried and unaware of the orcs that drew close above her.

"Dad, is that you? Da?" she called, her, for a human, beautiful face open and young. Then an orc swung down beside her, and Tauriel raised her bow to shoot it before it could kill the girl. Luckily the girl did not freeze in terror, but stepped back inside with no hesitation, pulling the door closed with a scream.

Other orcs lowered themselves into the streets, attacking the dwarf. He fell back with a surprised yelp, dropping something green from his hands. He tried crawling away, but an orc grabbed the back of his clothes, throwing him against a wall. He tumbled over, almost falling into the cold water beside the planked streets.

Tauriel felt indecision tear in her chest as other orcs broke into the house of the screaming girl. Three went through the roof, the other finally breaking through the door. Should she help the girl or the dwarf?

She decided to trust in Legolas, and went for the girl. She was, after all, innocent and as most human girls, helpless. She was still screaming, so Tauriel knew her not to be dead.

Through the corner of her eye, she saw Legolas shoot the orc while she ran over the roof-tops, jumping down on the staircase just in time to kill an orc trying to enter through the door. She drew her daggers, a feral expression on her face as she felt her rage burn in an exhilarating way as if it celebrated in the murder of the foul creature.

Slowly she stepped into the house, taking in the situation. Two orcs were standing over two human girls, about to kill them when she stabbed them from behind, feeling an almost motherly worry for the girls. So young.

Legolas dropped down through one of the holes in the loft, quickly taking out another orc in the confusing fight. Dwarves were jumping and fighting, swinging weapons and cooking-pots against the orcs.

A roar of pain reached her and she turned to see an orc pulling at the wounded leg of the dwarf she had come to save. He was almost pulled halfway out of his sickbed when she threw the dagger to the orc's neck, killing it instantly. She smiled. The first time they had met, she had thrown the same dagger to kill a spider attacking him.

He fell from the bed in surprise.

She on the other hand, ducked to avoid the weapon of another orc, grabbing hold of a hanger on the wall, using it as support as she jumped to the wall to get enough power to stab through the spine of the attacking orc, and then steadying herself with it as she killed another orc entering the house through the door.

Legolas sprung down in front of her, killing an orc who was rushing against her with a sword in both hands. It fell quickly at the hands of her prince.

He continued into the room, hitting one orc with his hand, before pushing his knives up through the soft meat below the chins of two orcs. Pulling out the knives, the orcs fell dead. He leaned back to avoid the blade of another, and she killed it, stabbing straight through its back and into its heart.

It was almost an instinct to be aware of him and protect his back, and it was the same for him.

For so many years, they had fought together, back to back, for so many years they had been able to count on each other.

They smiled shortly at each other before whirling back into the fight.

She saw an orc in front of her, attacking and she swung her dagger to it's neck, hitting, but missing by a bit and failing to make it a deadly blow.

But she did not have to worry, for the dark-haired dwarf had grabbed the dagger she threw before, and now he sprung to his feet, plunging it into the side of the orc with a roar of rage and maybe pain.

As the orc fell, so did he, and he continued to roar, as he closed his eyes, his whole body a vision of pain. In shock she stared at him, surprised that he, in such a state of illness and hurt, had tried to save her.

An orc yelled something in their horrible language and the others retreated, leaving the room. Legolas killed some as they fled, following the others outside, determined to not let anyone escape alive. He stepped back inside, a human boy staring at him in wonder.

"You killed them all." he said, still panting from fear.

"There are others." Legolas said, harshly. "Tauriel. Come." he said, not for a moment doubting that she would follow.

But she stared at him, unable to decide, her ears filled with the pain-filled breathing of the dwarf.

A grey-haired old dwarf grabbed hold of the dark-haired one, and stared op at her with panic in his eyes.

"We are loosing him!" he shouted.

Legolas stopped and looked back at her.

"Tauriel." he said, turned and walked out the door to hunt down the rest of the orcs.

Tauriel took a deep breath and followed him, but as she reached the doorway, she heard a tortured sound and turned back to look at the dwarf, her eyes wide with emotion. She turned her head, glancing after Legolas who was already out of sight, and then back at Kili. There was nothing she could do. She did not have the proper medicine, he would die no matter what. She remembered her thoughts about him. _Reckless, but so filled with life that it was impossible for him not to be._

It was impossible for him not to _be_ and now he would die because she had no way of saving him. He would be no longer. The thought seared its way inside her, freezing her in place as a statue, unable to follow Legolas, unable to move.

Something, _someone,_ came running up the stairs and she grabbed her weapons, turning to see a dwarf with a funny hat. In his hands were a green bunch of plants, and she felt hope flicker in her heart.

"Athelas." she said breathlessly and reached out to take it. "Athelas." she repeated, taking it into her hands, examining the small flowers in the light of the stars, touching the green leaves that were all over the plants.

"What are you doing?" the dwarf asked with confusion and wonder in his voice, his eyes worried as he looked at her.

"I'm going to save him." she said, clutching the plant in her fingers, light blazing in her eyes.

* * *

_A/N;_

_Tauriel to the rescue! Let's hope she never tires of saving our favorite dwarf. That would be devastating.  
Three chapters in a day! I am on a roll! Though not a barrel-roll. I'll leave that stuff to the dwarves. I get Dizzy when I try. And hurt myself.  
As always, I'd love to hear how my chapters make you feel and what you think about it.  
Next up; The question we all are dying to know the answer to. _


	14. Chapter 14

_**14.**_

Tauriel shredded the leaves of the Athelas into a bowl of water, working quickly while the three dwarves carried the black-haired one to the table, lying him in the light of the lantern over it. He growled in pain and writhed, trying to escape it.

The girl whom she had gotten to hold the bowl, the youngest, held it secure between two hands. Even though she must be terrified and shocked after all that had happened, her hands did not shake. Tauriel was impressed, but took no time to think about it, as she hurried to save the life of the dwarf.

The shadows would not take him!

"Hold him down." she told the dwarves, fighting to keep her voice calm as she took the bowl and walked around them to his wounded leg. The dwarves tried, but he was strong, and she had to press a hand against the leg herself, causing him even more pain as she ripped the cloth of his pants to get a better look at the wound.

Looking up in horror over the blackened edges of it, she caught the eyes of his brother and hurried to take the Athelas leaves, gently rubbing them in her hands as she begun whispering in the language of old, asking the plant to give over its healing power and to help keep the dwarf from the shadows. In the ancient tongue of her people, she strengthened the healing of the plant, pressing it against his wound.

He tried to sit up, his muscles tensing as he fought the pain, and the two girls had to run over to help the dwarves hold him down as she pressed the plant into his wound, continuing to speak the strong clear words of the elves, her voice becoming strained as she herself fought to keep her hands down on the wound, holding the plants in place. She had not guessed from the paleness of his skin that he would have so much strength left.

Instead she drew on the power of the old tongue again, and started share her light with the dwarf and the plant, sharing her eternal life and the strength of her people. Her voice grew larger and strangely hollow as she spoke the words, all the years of her life blazing in her mind.

More than seven centuries had she drawn breath, and now she commanded the power of those years to let him continue to do the same.

The brother looked at her, stunned and awed, and so did the old one with the grey hair. The one with the funny hat drew back, letting go of the dark-haired when the pain started to leave him and he grew still. Kili's eyes opened, at first only small splits, as he stared at her.

But she did not notice. Did not see as she stared into the empty abyss of time and asked it to prolong his. And then she looked at him, drawing a breath, still speaking words that only she could understand, her eyes locked in his as they stared at each other.

Emerald eyes fell into black, as she lowered her voice, thanking the plants and the grace that was the Eldars for saving him and easing his pain. The shadows had been pushed from him and he would survive, though he would never truly heal. The morgul blade might poison the blood and scar the body, but it was the soul that was truly wounded.

She removed her hands, relaxing as she looked at the others.

"He will live." she said, a faint and tired smile on her lips, and then she sent the others for something to bandage his wound with. The two girls hurried and return with handfuls of cloth, while the dwarves drew back, giving her space to work.

She bandaged his leg with the cleanest of the strips of cloth the others had found her, only now noticing through the hole in his pants that his legs were not as hairy as she would have expected a dwarf's to be. She bit the inside of her cheek in a way she had not done since she was a young maiden and cast a quick glance at his face, telling herself that it was not something for her to notice. She also noticed that when they had put him on the table, they had not removed what was there before, and his head rested in a large wooden plate filled with walnuts.

She heard the old one tell the brother how the wonders of elven medicine had been a privilege to witness, but gave them no mind, just as she had not given anything else but the dwarf a thought ever since she had decided to stay an help him. It was too painful to let her mind wander to the people that she had left behind. To Legolas, whom she had let leave without her.

Then, to her surprise, the dark-haired dwarf said her name.

"Tauriel." he said, the word barely a whisper on his lips. Concerned, she turned and looked at his still much too pale face.

"Lie still." she said softly, almost smiling. That he could speak, meant that the pain must have subsided. He continued to look at her through half-closed eyes, and she looked away, busying herself with bandaging his leg. She knew that she should not care. Should not find herself in another impossible love when one was more than enough.

"You cannot be her." the dwarf said as if she had said nothing, his voice hoarse and ruined. She looked up, hesitating, but not looking at him. Instead she stared into the distance, as still as a deer when caught by the eyes of a hunter, feeling as if an arrow could pierce her at any moment, and yet not moving.

"She is far away. Sh... She is far, far away." he continued, his eyes turning towards the stars, his face longing and at the same time sad and dreamlike. "She walks in starlight in another world."

She turned to look at him and their eyes met, pain spiking his as his eyebrows drew together in deep sadness.

"It was just a dream." he said.

She looked away, and then her eyes flickered to her hand, where his had lifted to touch her. His rough fingers touched the smooth skin that was hers, his so dark and grimy that it seemed to contrast her very being instead of just the fair luminescent whiteness of her elven skin. His fingers entangled themselves in hers gently and without strength.

"Do you think she could have loved me?" he asked her, his eyes, like hers, on their fingers. He drew in a tired breath, and she opened her mouth to answer.

* * *

_A/N;_

_Yep. I'm putting it off to next chapter since this is already one of the longest chapter in the story. And yep, you will have to wait. And yep Again, this is the last DOS chapter and from now on it will be just me and the book and Kiliel and some other things, like a dragon and some of that stuff. Nothing important.  
_


	15. Chapter 15 - Leaving DOS

_**15.**_

"I..."

The deep rumble from the mountain prevented her from saying anything more as everyone stood in alarm. People outside let fearful cries escape as they looked up to see the a shadow against the clouds over the mountain.

Tauriel's elven ears caught a whisper on the wind. A whisper that she knew no human nor dwarf in the town would hear. A whisper that made her shudder with fear. _I am fire,_ it said. _I am death._

And she believed the voice.

For a second the room was silent with no motion or movement. Then it erupted into confusion.

One of the young girls, the oldest, grabbed a short cape, swinging it around her shoulders as she ran to the door, pulling it open, with panicked movements. Kili tried to push himself up on the elbows, fighting to figure out what was going on. Fili ran to his brother, worried, while Oin moved to stop the girl from running outside. The last of the girls had moved closer to Tauriel, as if to seek shelter. The young boy who had, till then, sat still on a bench, shot to his feet.

"Stop." she found herself saying, her voice steel, as she hardened herself against the fear and the array of doubts and what-ifs that filled her.

Everybody stopped, Oin inching in between the door and the oldest of the girls, making sure that she would not continue outside.

Tauriel turned to Kili first, her eyes flashing. "I said to lay still." she told him, using her words as a whip. "So lie down and stop wasting my work."

Tauriel turned swiftly to the girl. "What is your name?" she asked.

The girl blinked, once, then she collected herself as the boy moved to her side.

"Sigrid." she answered.

Tauriel nodded. "And where are you going?" she asked then, following the threads of sanity to prevent madness.

"To get Da." Sigrid said. "To get my father."

"Why?" Tauriel threw at her, pursuing reason as she would a prey.

"Because..." the girl said, suddenly hesitating.

"Because," said the boy, stepping forward. "Father can kill the dragon."

"And your name?" Tauriel asked him, knowing that her elven voice and that the questions would help calm the young ones.

"Bain, son of Bard." he answered, pushing his chest forward with pride.

"Bard, the descendent of Girion?" she asked and saw Bain slump at the mention of his ancestor. He nodded.

Tauriel nodded too.

"Good." she said. "I believe you then, if you say he may slay the dragon." Her eyes turned back to Sigrid. "And where is he?" she asked..

Sigrid seemed to despair.

"In the prison." she said. "Because the lord mayor does not like him."

"I saw them take him." Bain said, sadly.

Tauriel looked at them for a second or two, then she sighed. "The mayor will not let him go." she said. "And no matter, for we have no black arrow for him or anyone else to fire."

Bain seemed to perk up.

"I know where it is." he said. "I hid it when they took him, when he tried to get to the windlance."

Tauriel looked at him, her eyes examining him.

"Good." she said, feeling hope flutter in her heart. She turned to the old dwarf, (Gloin? Oin?) and nodded at his questioning look. "Go with him to retrieve it." she said.

The dwarf, although she had expected him to protest against an elf ordering him about, nodded in seriousness. "Let's be gone, then." he said and walked out the door, Bain following him.

Tauriel turned to Sigrid.

"They will fetch the arrow, so you should calm yourself and your sister. She is young and scared." Tauriel told her and then she turned again, this time towards Fili. "And you," she said, smiling, intending to tell him to make his brother rest, as something dropped down the hole in the roof, causing the youngest girl to scream.

Tauriel turned, her dagger already in her hand, ready to be thrown against an enemy. But then she recognized Legolas and her hand started trembling. Off all that she had dared hope to see or dreaded, he had not been one of them. She had believed him lost to her, as her people.

"Shh, Tilda." Sigrid consoled her sister. "It's okay, it's the elf that saved us before. It's okay."

Tauriel did not feel consoled by the words, for she saw the cold rage of betrayal in the icy-blue eyes of her old friend. She saw that though he had returned, he was still lost. She felt tears sting her eyes, something she had not felt for many years.

"Legolas." she said, her voice filled with emotion and sadness.

Her eyes locked in Legolas' she did not see Kili on the table behind her, closing his eyes as his face became a mask of pain. Nor did she see the scornful look that Fili sent her, or the confusion on the two girls, as they looked upon Legolas, who was more beautiful than any mortal.

A roar came to them upon the wind. This time loud enough for the dwarves to hear, though the humans did still not catch hold of it.

_I am fire._

_I am death. _

And still, Tauriel felt herself frozen as she looked at Legolas.

* * *

_A/N; _

_Ok. Now I feel like the not so charming part of human anatomy (Though my bottom is delectable, if I am to believe the bastards that keep grabbing at it when I go to parties. Part of the reason I don't go very often.). I know I owe you an answer, but a dragon sort of got in the way. You'll hear (well, read) her answer later, I promise. I'm almost scared of your reactions right now..._


End file.
